Naked Vine One-Hitter: Castiglioni Chianti

As I've gotten older and more full of years, my palate's changed a bit. Lighter-styled wines have been finding their way to our table more and more often. As a result, I've been grooving on Chianti -- that famously food-friendly red from Tuscany.

Now, if you're new here, remember that the naming conventions for Italian wines (as well as many European wines in general) are different from here. Many folks I know think that "Chianti" is a grape and "Chianti Classico" means a higher grade of Chianti. Release yourself from those assumptions. Chianti is the region within Tuscany from where the wine hails. (Chianti Classico is a subzone of the Chianti region.)

Chianti is made primarily from the Sangiovese grape -- at least 75% of the blend must be Sangiovese to be considered a Chianti. There are a number of other grapes, that can provide the other 25% of the blend, including red grapes Syrah and Merlot -- and whites like Malvasia and Trebbiano.

Because of this blending diversity, Chianti can be all over the map as far as flavor profile. Leaner, more acidic Chianti tend to have a higher percentage of white grapes blended in. The Chianti I had the chance to try recently -- Castiglioni 2016 Chianti -- was on the other end of the spectrum.

Castiglioni is the original estate of the Frescobaldi wine family. Wine has been produced from its vineyards since the 1300's. Their current version of Chianti is a straight blend of Sangiovese and Merlot. The result is an Italian wine that's a bit more approachable than many Chianti.

I find Chianti to have a bit of a "chalky" background flavor, which might not sound great to drink on its own -- but it actually allows it to mesh in a complementary fashion with just about any type of food. The Castiglioni has less of that chalk flavor because of the merlot in the blend, which masks it with a bigger dose of fruit. Cherry and blackberry are the dominant flavors here. This is a round, full, uncomplicated version of Chianti that can be sipped on its own.

With food, as with many Chianti, it's a much better choice in my estimation. We had this over the weekend alongside a savory lamb stew and it was a very nice accompaniment. It would also be a solid choice with roast chicken, red sauced pasta, or almost any kind of cheese, in my estimation.

Castiglioni Chianti retails for around $15. It's a very decent quaffer. Also, if you're new to Italian wines, this might be a good gateway bottle to start a vinous exploration of the region.

Levels and Levels – Chianti Three Ways

Ah, Chianti.

Lovely Sangiovese-based blend from Tuscany, how do I love thee? As you all know, here around Vine HQ, we love our food, and there are few better food wines anywhere than those that come out of the Chianti region.

Now, as you might have guessed from the first paragraph, Chianti is the name of a place, not a grape. Italian wines are generally named after the locale where the grapes for the wine are grown, with a few exceptions.

There are rough quality delineations among Chianti, roughly mirroring the price points. A wine simply labeled “Chianti” can be made from grapes harvested anywhere in the region. At least 70% of the wine must be made from Sangiovese. The balance of the wine is usually a blend of other Italian indigenous varietals, along with the occasional addition of Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot. Chianti tend to be relatively lighter-bodied, full of cherry and raspberry fruit flavors, and with a mineral character that feels a little “chalky” to me.

You might see “Chianti Classico” on a bottle if you’re looking. “Classico” has nothing to do with being a “classic” wine. The term refers to the area in the heart of the Chianti region bordered by Florence on the north and Siena on the south. This was the “original” area of Chianti which produces arguably some of the best wine. Chianti Classico must be a minimum of 80% Sangiovese. The flipside of Chianti Classico is “Chianti Superiore,” which is typically higher quality wine made from grapes sourced from anywhere in Chianti other than the Classico region.

If you see “Chianti Riserva,” that means that the wine is aged for a longer period of time in barrel – a minimum of two years. A standard Chianti is only aged for 4-7 months. Chianti Superiore must be aged for at least nine months and Chianti Classico for at least ten. The terms can be stacked, so you might run into a “Chianti Classico Riserva” in your travels.

There is also the recent addition of “Chianti Gran Selezione” into the lexicon, which is supposed to reflect the highest quality. The minimum alcohol level is slightly higher – 13% compared to 12.5% for riserva. The wine must be aged for 30 months minimum. These wines tend to run towards the very expensive end of the spectrum. When I’ve had the opportunity to try them, I’ve not thought that they were quite worth the extra shekels.

In any case, I went on a Chianti kick last week after I received a bottle for sampling. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I did a side-by-side-by-side tasting with three different levels of Chianti. The contestants:

DaVinci 2015 Chanti ($11)

Fattoria Rodano 2015 Chianti Classico ($17)

Castello di Albola Chianti Classico Riserva ($28)

The DaVinci was light-bodied, with that cherry covered chalkiness that I mentioned before. It’s fairly high in acid and makes a very straightforward table wine.

The Rodano Chianti Classico was actually the fullest, most concentrated wine of the three. Full and round, I found plums and cherries on the palate, which was softer and not quite as sharp. I thought it tasted like a “concentrated” version of the DaVinci flavorwise. The finish was more tannic, with coffee and chocolate flavors alongside the chalk.

The di Albola Chianti Classico Riserva was  the most “serious” of the wines – much more complex than the other two, with a smokier, silkier flavor. While the chalkiness was present, it was largely in the background, not detracting from the cherry and blackberry flavors that were dominant. While the body was lighter styled than the other Chianti Classico, the finish was longer and fruitier to go with its wisp of smoke.

I don’t generally care for Chianti on its own. It’s not usually my choice for a wine just to pop and pour. Of these three, the Rodano was probably the best for a “drink

alone” wine. But Chianti is made for food, and we tried the three over the space of a couple of nights.

First, with a pan-roasted salmon with tomatoes and fennel, the best of the three wines turned out to be the least expensive. The higher acid level in the straight Chianti cut through the fattiness of the fish easily, while still retaining its character. The Chianti Classico was too concentrated. It didn’t play well with the flavors, running over them instead. The Chianti Classico Riserva was fine, but you could tell that it needed more substantial fare.

We got that fare the next night, when I got out my meat tenderizer and pummeled some round steaks into submission to make my semi-famous Brasciole. The Chianti Classico got heavy and dark alongside this pairing – turning into something akin to an inexpensive syrah. The regular Chianti was good, but the real champ was the di Albola. Its flavors snaked around the beef and garlic, yet had enough of an acid backbone to stand up to the long-simmered red sauce. A real winner.

Chianti Classico’s Contemporary Climb

I sometimes wonder which fictional character had more of an effect on the world of wine – Miles’s rant about the inadequacies of Merlot in Sideways, or The Silence of the Lambs' Hannibal Lecter introducing the world to the pairing of Chianti with fava beans and a side of census taker.

It’s the latter wine that we’re here to discuss – Chianti. Specifically, Chianti Classico.

Chianti, in a theme you’ll likely notice if you’re a regular visitor to these parts, is not a grape. Chianti is a region of central Tuscany near Florence. In that region, the primary grape is Sangiovese, the backbone of a number of Italian wines. Wines from Chianti are legally required to be at least 70% Sangiovese. As well, “Classico” does not refer to any “classic” style of wine production. Classico is a designated subregion within Chianti considered by many aficionados to produce the highest quality juice. 

The offense that brought the poor census taker to his end in Silence of the Lambs was trying to categorize Dr. Lecter. The winemakers of Classico have no such problem with categorization. In fact, where there used to be two categories of Chianti Classico – within the last couple of years, the region’s added a third.

Wines labeled “Chianti Classico” are produced from grapes grown in that subregion. They must be at least 12% alcohol, be at least 80% Sangiovese, and be aged for a minimum of seven months before release. They have an icon of a black rooster on the label, and can be had for around $10-15. “Chianti Classico Riserva” was previously the highest level of Chianti. The Riserva wines must be aged for a minimum of 24 months and have a slightly higher alcohol content, in addition to the regular Classico rules.

In 2014, the region created a new designation – “Chianti Classico Gran Selezione,” which sounds impressive. These wines must be aged a minimum of 30 months, and must be produced from grapes grown specifically by the winery. This designation was supposed to indicate a new, higher level of quality – basically the creation of a readily identifiable category of top “estate wines” for the region.

This reclassification is not without controversy. While there are some technical differences – slightly higher alcohol content, aging, pH levels – a winery could conceivably age a “Riserva” wine for six additional months and label it “Gran Selezione.” Additionally, wines in this category are checked for quality by a panel of judges – an addition which veers dangerously close to the hyperclassification of vineyards found in France…and few Italian winemakers want any part of a parallel to their major wine producing rival.

There is, however, one considerable difference between Riserva and Gran Selezione – price. Riserva wines commonly cost $20-40. Most Gran Selezione wines start at around $40 and go up from there. But I don’t want to cast aspersions on this new classification. Most winemakers seem to be keeping with the spirit of the new classification, which also allows smaller winemakers to offer their top wines with a special designation, rather than getting lost among the Riserva created by larger producers.

But does the new designation really represent an increase in quality? I had the opportunity to try a couple of wines from Castello di Albola. Specifically, the Castello di Albola 2014 Chianti Classico (~$17) and the Castello di Albola 2013 Chianti Classico Gran Selezione (~$70). I tried to find a bottle of the Albola Chianti Riserva to do a true side-by-side-by-side of the three levels, but I couldn’t run one down in time for publication.

Regardless of quality, Chianti is not a wine that I prefer to drink on its own. There’s something about the chalky backbone that just does little for me without some kind of food to work alongside. But for pairing with traditionally Italian flavors like red sauce or roasted meats and vegetables, it’s difficult to go wrong with Chianti Classico of any stripe. That in mind, I whipped up a nice batch of pasta in a red sauce with mushrooms and Italian sausage for the tasting.

Let’s just get this out in the open – the Gran Selezione is a stupendous food wine for a pairing like this. The flavors are rich and fruity, with a good tannic backbone and plenty of spice notes to go along with a plummy, cherry-slathered body. The finish lasts as long as any Italian wine I’ve had not from the Piedmont (Barolo, Barbaresco). With food, it marries itself strongly to the traditional Italian flavors. The “standard” Chianti Classico is also very good. The wine is much more straightforward – tending towards the cherry end of the spectrum. The tannins aren’t quite as bold, nor is the finish as long. That said, as good as the Gran Selezione was, it wasn’t a $50 better bottle.

Fast forward one night. The Sweet Partner in Crime decided to put together one of her "repurposed leftover quesadillas." This one included beef, mushrooms, wilted beet greens, caramelized onions, and pepper cheese. We had saved some of each wine to try the next night – and the Gran Selezione really showed its colors. I never expected that a meal made from leftovers would have truly decadent flavors, but the more expensive wine turned an “eat in front of Netflix before chilling” meal into a delectable treat. If a special occasion meal that includes varied, earthy flavors is on the menu, then splurging on the Gran Selezione might be a real consideration.

I would suggest, if you’re interested in trying a higher end Chianti Classico – that you “climb the ladder” with your selections. Talk to your local wine guy or gal about a solid Chianti Classico Riserva. If that rings your bell, consider moving up to the big bucks bottle.

And finally, to come full circle for a moment -- one of the few foods that Chianti would not pair with particularly well is liver. Organ meat tends to have a metallic taste from the high levels of iron, and the rich flavors would run over all but the fullest of Chianti. A better choice for our hypothetical census taker meal would have been a wine with more tannin and fuller fruit flavors. What wine would fill that bill? Ironically, Merlot would have been a superior choice. It’s a shame that we never got the “Hannibal and Miles” buddy comedy we all deserve. 

Naked Vine One-Hitter – Up on the Rúfina

Good ol’ Chianti. You’ve got $15 in your pocket and you’re looking for a good table wine to go with a nice dinner you’re planning – and you know you can amble through la sezione italiana and come up with a decent bottle. If you’ve got a little more scratch to spend, though -- Chianti doesn’t stop with plain old table wine.

Thanks to Juliana at Colangelo PR, the wine fairy dropped off a bottle of Frescobaldi Nipozzano Vecchie Viti 2011 Chianti Rúfina, which was just released in the U.S. and is one of my first experiences in the deeper end of the Tuscan wine pool.

As I’ve covered before, Chianti is not a grape. Italian wines are usually named for the region from which the grapes are grown. Chianti is a large region in central Tuscany which encompasses parts of several Tuscan sub-provinces. A wine simply labeled “Chianti” can be made from grapes harvested anywhere in this region. Speaking of those grapes, at least 70% of the wine must be made from Sangiovese to fall into the Chianti category. The balance of the wine is usually a blend of other Italian indigenous varietals, along with the occasional addition of Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot. Chianti tend to be relatively lighter-bodied, full of cherry and raspberry fruit flavors, and with a mineral character that feels a little “chalky” to me.

You might see “Chianti Classico” on a bottle if you’re looking. “Classico” has nothing to do with being a “classic” wine. The term refers to the area in the heart of the Chianti region bordered by Florence on the north and Siena on the south. This was the “original” area of Chianti which produces arguably some of the best wine. Chianti Classico must be a minimum of 80% Sangiovese. The complement of Chianti Classico is “Chianti Superiore,” which is wine made from grapes sourced from anywhere in Chianti other than the Classico region. 

Chianti. Know it. Love it. Live it.

However, there are a few areas outside the Classico region known for making excellent Chianti. In some cases, some of the best. One of those areas is Rúfina – a small area that juts north from Classico into the province surrounding Florence. Rúfina, home to some of the highest-altitude vineyards in Tuscany, is one of the eight sub-zones of the Chianti region which is, like Classico, allowed to affix its name to a wine label as a quality designation.

Because of its altitude, Rúfina has a cooler climate than much of the surrounding area. In my experience, cool climate wines have more complexity and are less fruit-forward than wines made in higher temperature growing regions. If you’ve been keeping up with my recent travels, you know I’m a big fan of cooler weather wines – but most of my knowledge in that area comes from domestically produced grapes. I was curious how this translated to Italian wines.

I can report with confidence that I’m a fan of Rúfina’s cool-climate Chianti. The Nipozzano Vecchie Viti I sampled is made from the oldest vineyards surrounding the Nipozzano Castle in the heart of the Chianti Rufina wine-growing areas. These vineyards are around 1000 feet above sea level, where most vineyards in Chianti average around 600 feet.

Chianti’s never struck me as a particularly fragrant wine, but the Vecchie Viti displayed a difference almost immediately. Although light, the nose smells like strawberry ice cream if it could sprout blossoms. It’s quite pretty. The flavor is medium-bodied with some of the typical Chianti flavors – cherry, cola, coffee, and chalk – and they’re exceptionally well integrated. This harmony continues through the finish, rather than the mouth-puckering acidity and chalky aftertaste of many Chianti. I’ve never considered Chianti a wine that I’d just open and drink on its own – it usually needs food to shine – but this one was very pleasant.

Just the same, Chianti is best known as a food wine. While any night can be a special occasion, the quality and subtlety of this wine would be best with a meal into which you’re trying to introduce some atmosphere. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I decided to try this wine alongside one of her famous homemade pizzas (roasted tomatoes, roast chicken, capers, garlic). Just as an experiment, we also opened a bottle of perfectly decent table wine –the Zonin 2012 Montepulciano d’Abbruzzo – which retails for $12 for a 1.5 liter. The difference in flavors, as the SPinC put it so eloquently, was “like the difference between a Vera Wang gown and a Nordstrom’s knockoff.”

That said, it was the end of a long week – and we were enjoying this pizza while spawled on the couch. While the Rúfina was excellent, the setting really didn’t do the best job of highlighting how good the wine actually was.

I’d recommend opening it for a sit down meal you’ve constructed to engage your senses. I see low light, some music in the background, a little romance in the air, and an Italian meal that’s got red sauce in it somewhere. This is a wine for a “special occasion” alongside someone you’re trying to impress – whether you’ve been with the person for weeks or decades. It’s going to improve whatever you might have on the table. Whether you end up on the table with your intended is an exercise left to the reader.

The Nipozzano Vecchie Viti retails for right around $30, along the lines of what you’d pay for a really good pinot noir. If you’re thinking in those terms, it’s a good value. Spend the few extra shekels to give this one a try.

Crazy for Chianti

How does a wine so flexible get overlooked so often?

I ask the question for myself as much as anything. Chianti, the most well-known Italian wine in the U.S., is a delicious, easy-to-drink wine that pairs up with almost anything. I love the stuff. But when I make my trips to the wine store, I usually scoot right past Chianti completely. Or, if I’m in the Italy aisle, I’m usually wandering to other areas – snagging myself a Barbera, a Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, or a Dolcetto depending on my mood. Then I get the chance to drink one and I think to myself, “Well, hello there! Where have you been?” I almost take it for granted.

Not exactly.

Chianti was one of the first wines that I wrote about in this space, and I won’t go back over my old tropes about straw basket candleholders and Hannibal Lecter’s food pairings with the organs of certain government employees (which he got wrong, in my opinion – he’d have been better off pairing that poor census taker’s liver with a Bordeaux) – but let’s get a quick review in of what Chianti actually is.

First off, Chianti is not a grape. Italian wines are named after the region from which the wine is made. Chianti is a large region in central Tuscany which encompasses parts of several Tuscan sub-provinces. A wine simply labeled “Chianti” can be made from grapes harvested anywhere in this region. Speaking of those grapes, at least 70% of the wine must be made from Sangiovese to fall into the Chianti category. The balance of the wine is usually a blend of other Italian indigenous varietals, along with the occasional addition of Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot. Chianti tend to be relatively lighter-bodied, full of cherry and raspberry fruit flavors, and with a mineral character that feels a little “chalky” to me.

You might see “Chianti Classico” on a bottle if you’re looking. “Classico” has nothing to do with being a “classic” wine. The term refers to the area in the heart of the Chianti region bordered by Florence on the north and Siena on the south. This was the “original” area of Chianti which produces arguably some of the best wine. Chianti Classico must be a minimum of 80% Sangiovese. The complement of Chianti Classico is “Chianti Superiore,” which is wine made from grapes sourced from anywhere in Chianti other than the Classico region.

There is one other Chianti-related terms with which you should be familiar. “Chianti Riserva” means that the wine is aged for a longer period of time in barrel – a minimum of two years. A standard Chianti is only aged for 4-7 months. Chianti Superiore must be aged for at least nine months and Chianti Classico for at least ten. The terms can be stacked, so you might run into a “Chianti Classico Riserva” in your travels.

Not long ago, Italian wine producer Banfi did a promotion called “Crazy for Chianti” to drum up renewed interest in the wines of Chianti. I was fortunate enough to receive some samples of the various sorts of Chianti from Banfi and their affiliated producers. As you’ll see, I found some distinct differences among the styles:

Bolla 2011 Chianti – If you’d like to classify a wine as “perfectly serviceable,” you’d probably land on this inexpensive bottle of Bolla. For a whopping eight bucks, you end up with a table wine that will go perfectly well with just about anything. It’s very straightforward – nice red fruits on the palate, some chalk and mineral in the middle, and a gentle, fruity, lightly tannic finish. It’s not what you’d call a memorable wine, but it falls squarely into the drinkable category. It’s also readily available in a 1.5l bottle for around $12. Not a bad red to have around when you’re feeling indecisive.

Cecchi 2010 Chianti Classico – A very different bottle from the Bolla. While the “regular” Chianti is fruit driven and simple, this Chianti Classico has a great deal more depth and structure. The characteristic cherry fruit is backed by a deep earthy flavor that reminded me a lot of a Bordeaux. This wine felt considerably heavier to me, and it wasn’t quite as good a food wine with somewhat lighter fare. This one would need something heavier – meat sauces, sausage pizzas, or something along those lines. If you like a richer version of your Chianti, it’s not a bad choice.

Banfi 2011 Chianti Superiore – A very interesting contrast to the Chianti Classico. Rather than the light red fruits in the Chianti Classico, there are strong notes of dark fruits like plums. There’s also a strong earthy component that adds a lot of richness. The finish is tart with a little bit of earth, and the traditional Chianti chalkiness popping in to say hello right at the end. It’s a really nice wine. I liked this one a lot. With penne in a goat cheese marinara with bits of cappacuolo “bacon,” it was absolutely delicious.
Recommended as a killer value at $11.

Banfi 2010 Chianti Classico Riserva – Certainly the richest of this set of wines, and also my personal favorite among them. Again, a much more deeply flavored wine than a standard Chianti, hearkening back to the earlier Chianti Classico, but this one had a richer, smoother texture. The nose is scented with cherries and vanilla. It’s about as full-bodied a Chianti as I’ve experienced, with plenty of dark cherry and spice flavors, along with a backbone of cocoa instead of that signature chalkiness. The chalkiness does show up at the end, but it’s complimented by more of that bitter chocolate flavor. It’s an exceptional food wine. We had this with a pan-cooked chicken puttanesca over orzo tossed with parsley and olive oil. Really nice, and a solid value for $16-18.

If you’ve been drinking an array of wines and Chianti has somehow become lost in the shuffle, make it a New Year’s resolution to get back on this Tuscan train. You’ll be glad you did.

TNV’s Guide to Wine & Cheese – Part I (Soft Cheese)

(Note: This series goes out to Dr. Randa. Here’s your daggone wine & cheese column…)

Mmmm…cheese.

Wine and cheese are inextricably linked. Both are the delicious products of well-managed fermentation. Both can be found at almost any gathering where noshables are present. And there are darned near endless varieties of each.

(The two are also at the core of one of my favorite sports quotes of all time. The immortal Sam Cassell called the assembled at UNC-CH’s Dean Dome a “cheese and wine crowd” during his Florida State days. It’s an apt descriptor of the usual level of crowd noise there.)

An important note of irony – as much as we think of wine and cheese going hand in hand, it’s exceedingly difficult to “perfectly” pair wine and cheese. There’s so much variation in individual wines and cheeses that it’s nearly impossible to say with confidence, “This type of wine always works with this type of cheese.” This difficulty gets compounded when you have multiple cheeses with a wine. Still, in the name of science, let’s press on.

There’s a basic process in most cheese production. Milk is allowed to ferment (sour) at room temperature. Certain kinds of mold and bacteria can be added during the fermenting process to impart more distinct flavors. The milk then separates into solid curds and liquid whey. The whey is drained off, the curds are pressed and often salted, and there you have it -- cheese. (Specifically, at this point, it’s cottage cheese – which was Little Miss Muffett’s “Curds and Whey.”)

For firmer cheeses, an enzyme called rennet is added to the fermenting milk. This accelerates the curd separation process. The curds are then often cut into small cubes and pressed into balls or logs. Soft cheeses stop here. Harder cheeses are pressed into molds and squeezed tightly, forcing out more of the whey and creating a firmer, drier product. This, in turn, allows the cheese to cure for a longer period of time. The harder the block, the longer a cheese can age.

Cheese can be classified in any number of ways – by location (much as many wines are); by texture; by flavor; by price; and so on. For our purposes, I’m going to use a three part classification: soft cheese, hard cheese, and stinky cheese. I’ll pick some cheeses for each category that you should be able to find without too much difficulty, along with what is normally considered the “classic wine pairing” for each. Just for fun, we’ll try each cheese and each wine together. Let’s start with soft cheeses. We chose these three:

• Fresh mozzarella (pairing: Chianti)
• Brie (pairing: extra dry sparkling wine)
• Chevre (pairing: Sancerre)

For information’s sake, Sancerre is a delicious, minerally sauvignon blanc from the Loire in France. It’s a little on the pricey side, but I was in the mood to splurge for this experiment. You could substitute a less expensive French sauvignon if you wanted. Extra dry sparkling wine usually works better than brut in my experience. The Chianti should be young. Aged Chianti will lose its complexity. How did things work out?

Fresh Mozzarella – While Mozzarella can be made from cow milk, it’s traditionally made from the milk of the domesticated water buffalo. Until I met the SPinC, I thought you only found mozzarella in baked pastas and on pizzas. I was used to seeing it shredded, imprisoned in a plastic bag instead of fresh, capable of being eaten alone. It’s a “clean” tasting cheese – which is to say that it doesn’t have much of a flavor in and of itself other than “milky and slightly granular.” With the Chianti alongside, it was OK. The cheese calmed the acidity of the wine a bit. It was decent but lacked something, so we ended up making little sandwiches with bread dipped in balsamic vinegar and olive oil, some fresh basil, and hard sausage. (Basically, we used all the things Chianti tastes good with.) It didn’t disappoint. With the sparkling wine, the yeasty flavor of the sparkler came out, but it wasn’t all that interesting. The Sancerre showed as far too acidic. There wasn’t enough flavor in the cheese to balance the wine and the gentle flavor of the wine got lost. Recommendation: mozzarella is a much stronger complimentary player. Consider serving it Caprese salad-style – with basil, tomatoes, and really good balsamic vinegar – instead of just by itself. Stick with Italian reds if you want to pair it.

Brie – The best known soft “party platter” cheese. You’ll usually see this cow’s milk cheese with a white rind, which is the product of the addition of rennet to the curd. The rind is edible if you’re so inclined. The cheese has a lasting, creamy, buttery flavor with a little bit of funk to it. Sparkling wine is the recommended pairing. The bubbles cut the fat & funk and mellow the flavor of the cheese. It’s pleasant. The Sancerre makes the cheese more funky, and the complexity of the wine is completely lost. The Chianti was a disaster. The chalkiness and acidity of the Chianti was as complementary towards the cheese as your average Kentucky basketball fan is towards Christian Laettner. Recommendation: like you need another excuse to bust out a bottle of bubbly.

I made an initial bobble with the brie. I initially bought a chunk of “Brie de Meaux,” an aged brie. When brie is aged, it gets very strong flavors – including ammonia (which is created in the fermentation process.) It’s supposed to be good soaked in café au lait, but I’m not that brave. It was disastrous with all the wines. Stick with the cheaper brie. Brie de Meaux…Neaux.

Chevre – Chevre is French for “goat.” Goat cheese has a tarter flavor than most cow’s milk cheeses because of the makeup of the milk itself (which is actually close to human milk). It often reminds me of buttercream frosting in consistency. There’s a little funkiness to it, but it’s largely a smooth, creamy experience. Sancerre is the pairing here for good reason. There’s something about the makeup of the two together. Fruit, creaminess, tartness, minerality – all balanced and working together as a heavenly, fluidly balanced combination. While there may be no “perfect” pairings, this is close. The sparkling wine was interesting. The thick buttery consistency initially gets stripped away by the bubbles and a blast of minerality & yeast, leaving sweetness and cream behind. An interesting, lively combination. As for the Chianti, my first comment was, “That’s really kinda nice!” An acidic vs. buttery contrast, but still pretty decadent. Recommendation: If you’re doing a soft cheese on a platter and you don’t know what kinds of wine you’ll have, you can’t go wrong with chevre. Easily the most interesting, wine friendly cheese that we had.

Next up – hard cheeses.

The Naked Vine Italian Wine Primer

Ah, Italian wine. Love it. Love it. Love it. As the foodie that I am, I’m hard pressed to come up with wine that goes better with a meal than Italian wines. After all, one of the few things that Italians do better than making wine is cooking, and because they’ve been making wine as long as they have, winemakers in each region have been tailoring wines to cuisine for centuries.

As such, each region’s wine varieties tend to be fairly consistent as far as the basic flavor profile goes. I wouldn’t choose to drink a lot of them on their own for one reason or another, but line up some steamed mussels next to an Italian pinot grigio or a Sangiovese with marinara-sauced pasta and you’ve got yourself a little slice of heaven.

The trick, though, is figuring out which of these heavily vowel-labeled bottles is the right wine. Like France, Italy’s gotten a little bit better about putting the names of grape varietals and/or descriptive blurbs in English on the bottle for the “ordinary American consumer.” For the most part, however, the traditional convention still holds. The names on the bottle are generally the producer and the region. The grape is often nowhere to be found. As I’ve mentioned before, I spent most of my pre-Vine life thinking that “Chianti” was a grape varietal instead of a region in Tuscany.

Further confusing matters are exceptions to this rule. Some Italian wines do put the name of the grape on the label as a matter of course. The name of the grape is usually followed by the name of the locale, so you’ll see wines like Moscato d’Asti, Barbera d’Alba, etc. The first one, for instance, translates as “The Moscato (grape) from Asti (the town).” You’ll even run into “Montepulciano d’Abruzzo” vs. “Vin Noble di Montepulciano.” The first is a fruity, easy-drinking table wine made from the Montepulciano grape. The second is a somewhat complex Sangiovese-based wine from the town of Montepulciano.

But why? Why stick to an antiquated, confusing system of nomenclature, especially now that the world has grown much more wine savvy? Why not just label the bloomin’ bottles with whatever the heck is in there?

The answer?

Two thousand.

There are at least 2,000 indigenous grape varietals in Italy. Gaining an encyclopedic knowledge of all the grapes in the Boot that go into their bottles of yummy would be next to impossible. So, how do you know what you’re getting?

The Italian government simplified matters for us a little. They created a classification system somewhat similar to the ones in France. If you look at most bottles of Italian wine, you’ll see “DOC” or “DOCG” somewhere on the label. Without going into too much detail, the DOC/DOCG designation shows that a wine was made in a certain region using pre-determined methods containing certain grape varietals. This usually aligns with the geographic region, but a grape will sometimes be included in the designation if the varietal is a specialty of the area – like the aforementioned Moscato d’Asti, et al.

In my experience, Italian wine is an experience where you largely get what you pay for. This isn’t to say that there isn’t really good inexpensive wine from Italy. Think about it this way -- if you blindly choose $30 Bordeaux, there’s a chance that you’ll end up with a wine inferior to the $10 dollar one on the rack nearby. Italian? $15 Chianti will be perfectly drinkable, but also usually consistent with its brethren of the same price point. If you splurge on a $30 bottle, you can usually tell a difference in quality (although you may not feel that difference was worth the extra moolah).

There are hundreds of DOC/DOCG growing regions, but many of them are extremely small and you probably won’t run into them very often. Here are some of the more common regions and DOC/DOCG designations you’ll run into at the local wine stores for your reading and drinking pleasure…

Region: Campania
Common wines you’ll see: Taurasi, Fiano, Falerno
Major grapes: Aglianico, Piedirosso, Primitivo (red); Falanghia (white)
General info: Campania is the region around Naples. The best known wine from there is a robust red called Taurasi made from the Aglianico grape. Fiano is a seafood-loving white and Falerno is another big wine made from Primitivo (Zinfandel). Much of the rest of the wine from there has traditionally been known as fairly generic, although it’s improved greatly in recent years.

Region: Tuscany
Common wines you’ll see: Chianti, Brunello di Montalcino, Vin Noble di Montepulciano, Rosso di Montalcino, Rosso di Montepulciano, IGT Toscana
Major grape: Sangiovese (red – not many whites in Tuscany)
General info: Ah, Tuscany – home of some of the most famous reds wines in Italy. Most Tuscan reds are backboned by the Sangiovese grape. Brunello di Montalcino is also Sangiovese, but a specific clone of that particular grape. There’s also “Vin Santo” – a sweet dessert wine. You’ll also find “super Tuscan” wines that are bigger and heartier. These are almost always Sangiovese blended with a non-indigenous varietal like merlot or cabernet, often to please an American palate. If you see “IGT Toscana” on the label, it’s probably a Super Tuscan of some stripe. The wines tend to be very flexible, since Tuscan cuisine is some of the most varied (and delicious) food in the world. However, in my opinion, these wines are not the best to drink by themselves. They need food to show their full potential.

Region: Piedmont
Common wines you’ll see: Barbaresco, Barolo, Barbera d’Alba, Barbera d’Asti, Dolcetto d’Alba, Dolcetto d’Asti, Moscato d’Asti, Gavi
Major grapes: Nebbiolo, Barbera, Dolcetto, Moscato (red); Cortese (white)
General info: Piedmont is the mountainous region in the northwest corner of the country. The bulk of Italy’s hearty reds come from this region – especially Barolo and Barbaresco. They’re some of the most famous of the world’s wines. Barbera is a big, juicy red and Dolcetto is a lighter, acidic red – both of which make excellent everyday wines in their “generic” form. The versions from “named” places (like Barbera d’Alba for instance) have more complexity. Gavi is a crisp white made from the Cortese grape (not to be confused with Dan Cortese) which makes an interesting contrast. Piedmont wines are built to stand up to heavier meats and sauces. Even the whites handle cream sauces easily. There’s also Moscato d’Asti – a low alcohol, sweet sparkling wine which may be the best brunch wine in the world.

Regions: Sardinia & Sicily
Common wines & grapes you’ll see: Cannonau (red); Malvasia, Vernacchia, Verdicchio, Moscato (white)
General info: The islands of Italy usually end up putting the names of the grapes on the label, so you can generally run with those. Both islands, especially Sardinia, produce quantities of dry, crisp white wines made from Vernacchia, Malvasia, and Verdicchio that go perfectly with shellfish. Sicily produces a huge amount of dessert wine. The most common red is made from Cannonau, which is currently getting a great deal of publicity for its hypothesized life-extending properties. Cannonau is similar to Grenache and often makes for powerful wines, but on the islands, they’re made in a much lighter, more aromatic style.

Region: Veneto
Common wines you’ll see: Bardolino, Valpolicella, Soave, Prosecco
Major grapes: Corvina, Sangiovese (red); Prosecco, Garganega (white)
General Info: The region around Venice cranks out a huge amount of wine. The reds are usually blends backboned by the Corvina grape. These reds tend to be some of the lightest bodied in the country. Many are often served slightly chilled, much like Beaujolais. There’s actually a “Bardolino novello,” made in a similar style as Beaujolais Nouveau. The whites, like Soave are usually fruity and more or less dry. The Valdobbiadene district is the home of Prosecco, Italy’s most famous sparkling wine. It resembles Spanish cava in many ways. Interestingly, with all the light reds produced in Valpolicella, it’s also home to the most powerful red wine in Italy: Amarone. Amarone is made from raisinated grapes, which yields a concentrated, potent (upwards of 15% alcohol), tannic, tasty wine.

There are 14 other major wine growing regions in Italy and literally hundreds of DOC & DOCG designations. It’s worth it to explore. Ask for your Italian wine expert at your local store. There’s usually one major “Italophile” in every shop. They’ll usually steer you correctly. But for basics, this should take care of you for right now. Hope it helps!

Felice Anno Nuovo!

Now that I've had a couple of days to rehydrate so that my brain feels less like it's been slow-cooked in bacon grease, I can start the Vine train rolling again.

For those who haven't followed the Vine since its inception, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I hunker down each New Year's Eve, try some recipes that we haven't made before, open a bunch of wine, and generally enjoy ourselves while avoiding Amateur Night in the public square. This year, inspired by our Med Cruise and buoyed by a new cookbook, we decided to think Italian and embark on our own "Big Night." (Side note: if you haven't seen that movie and you call yourself a foodie, you're missing out in so many ways...)

The lineup for the evening (I waived my usual $15 limit, since this was a special occasion):


Terlan 2007 Alto Adige Pinot Grigio ($20)
Bisci 2006 Verdicchio di Matelica ($15)
Cecci 2006 Chianti Classico ($15)
Vietti 2006 Dolcetto d'Alba Tre Vigne ($20)
Rotari "Arte Italiana" Talento Trento Brut ($14)

Aperitif: The Terlan pinot grigio -- to get us started, because how can anyone be expected to make an Italian meal without a glass or two of wine at the ready? Also, since there was a must-see basketball game on New Year's Eve, we had something to sip on while our various dishes started down their succulent courses.

The Terlan was an excellent choice for a starter. This pinot grigio was much fuller and softer than many I've tried. Still a high-acid wine, for sure, but there was less of a citrus taste -- more melon and a crisp, strong finish that wasn't biting.

Antipasti: Our first course was a thinly sliced grouper marinated in lemon juice. The recipe initially called for non-Chilean sea bass or striped bass, but there wasn't any available locally that I could find.


This dish is very similar to ceviche. If you're unfamiliar with ceviche, it's raw fish and red onion marinated in lime juice. The Italian version used flat-leaf parsley and lemon juice instead of lime juice and cilantro. The acidity of the lemon juice"cooks" the fish in a few hours, creating a fully-cooked, light, flavorful concoction. We tried both the Pinot Grigio and the Verdicchio with the dish. (The Verdicchio was a fragrant, peachy smelling white. Full-bodied and crisp, this had a little more oomph than the Pinot Grigio.)

Split decision. I liked the Verdicchio better, since I thought the fuller wine balanced the acidity of the lemon and brought out more interesting flavors. The SPinC preferred the pinot grigio, since she liked the "acid with acid" effect on all the citrus. Either way, you couldn't lose.

Primi: We followed the grouper with the produce of one of our new holiday toys -- a pasta maker.

We wanted to play, so we made homemade linguini in a simple tomato & anchovy sauce became our pasta course. (Don't wrinkle your nose at the anchovies -- the sauce didn't taste fishy at all.) We sampled with both the Verdicchio and the Chianti Classico. The latter was the clear winner, although both wines got outshined by the pasta itself, which was heavenly. A regular Chianti would probably have been a good choice, or perhaps a Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. I don't know if I could get used to making my own pasta every day, since it's fairly labor intensive -- but the difference between homemade and store-bought pasta is nothing short of amazing.


Primi parte due: Here, we broke from "traditional" Italian meal model. Soup generally does not follow pasta, but since we were stretching this meal out over the course of the evening, we decided to do this as a separate course. So, we settled on an an escarole, bean, and barley soup. With this traditional rustic Italian soup, we decided to go with a wine equally rustic. We paired this up with the Chianti Classico and had our first "WOW!" pairing of the evening. Chianti Classico can be a little rough around the edges taken on its own, but nuzzled up against a steaming bowl of this earthy concoction that we had going in the slow cooker for a few hours -- absolutely a heavenly experience. The earthy flavors in the soup deepened. The fruit in the wine shone through marvelously. We ate this course without saying too much, as we were so focused on the flavor.


Secondi: For our main course, we did a pan-roasted veal shoulder stuffed with spinach and garlic. I'd never done a stuffed roast before, and I was a bit nervous about anything requiring the use of kitchen twine, but my fears were unfounded. The roast came out done to a turn -- and after plating it up, we were treated to the second "WOW!" pairing. Dolcetto is from the Piedmont region, home of Barolo and Barbaresco. Dolcetto is a fruitier, more acidic, more delicate wine than those two tannic monsters. The Vietti has a deeply fruity, slightly smoky nose and a wonderful balance of fruit and tannin in its medium-bodied style. As wonderful as the wine tasted, paired with the veal, it was absolutely sublime -- the perfect amount of tannin to cut through the fat, and the savory, delicate flavor of the veal married perfectly with the wine's fruit. Just exceptional.



Dolci: Of course, we needed to finish with a sweet, so I poached tangerine slices in simple syrup, white wine, and lemon juice, then sprinkled them with some allspice. We rang in the new year with this, paired up with the Rotari sparkling wine. By this point in the evening, we couldn't properly appreciate the pairings, but we can safely say that it tasted pretty darned good.


After watching the ball drop, we toasted in the New Year with the Rotari (and I added a shot of grappa...), slammed some water and headed for bed, full and happy.

In case you're interested, the cookbook we used was "Every Night Italian" by Giuliano Hazan. All of the recipes (except for the tangerines) are based on what we found there. Mr. Hazan was generous enough to give permission for me to reprint the recipes. Follow the links to get the individual recipes. If you're interested in the book itself, click here to get it on Amazon.



Welcome to 2009, everyone! May it be a prosperous, healthy year for all of us.

Fiddling with the Sicilians -- Nero d'Avola

Nero fiddling as Rome burns.

This image has become the allegorical embodiment of decadence and detachment. This, of course, is an apocryphal story. Nero reigned over the Roman empire from 54 to 68 A.D. The violin wasn't invented until the 1500's. This doesn't rule out the possibility of him doing some mean lyre plucking while the conflagration raged about him -- but fiddling…not so much.

What's a Roman Emperor doing this wine column? While I'm all about decadence (and not so much about pyromania), the only direct link between our day's topic and ancient Rome is the name. Nero, translated from Italian, means "black." Nero d'Avola is a grape varietal. Thus, the name is "The black [grape] of Avola." Avola is a small town in southern Sicily where this varietal was largely first cultivated.

Sicilian wine has had a bad rap for quite some time. The best known grape from Sicily is Marsala. Yes, the Marsala that you've probably seen used as cooking wine, right there next to the sherry on a well-stocked kitchen's shelf. Sicily made a few other wines largely for local consumption, but nothing really stood out on the world market.

However, like many other places in the world, as cultivation and wine making techniques continued to improve, and Sicily discovered that they could crank out some decent product. One of the great benefactors of these improvements was Nero d'Avola.

Nero d'Avola (also known as "Calabrese") was used for a long time as a blending grape, largely used for its inky color to add some heft to some of the other local product. However, cultivated properly, this varietal produces a very solid wine in and of itself. It's now the most cultivated grape in Sicily. Neros are generally big, fruity wines. They're usually very straightforward, and they have enough tannin to age pretty well -- but most are drunk relatively young.

While I don't think it will replace Montepulciano or Barbera on my table on a regular basis any time soon, I've tried a few and was pleasantly surprised:

Dievole "Pinocchio" 2006 Nero d'Avola -- Dievole Winery itself is not in Sicily, but in Chianti. They imported grapes from there and found that they enjoyed the Tuscan soil. My nose won't grow when I tell you that this is very fruity for a wine from Chianti. I'm used to wines from this region having a "chalky" taste. The chalk doesn't bother me when I'm drinking Chianti with food, but I usually won't drink one on its own. This wine is easy enough to drink on its own. It's soft and fruity, with a little bit of a floral nose. The finish is medium length and light. Pork or roast chicken would go well, as would a spicy fish preparation. $9-13.

Arancio 2006 Nero d'Avola -- Feudo Arancio wines are Sicilian in origin. This wine is a decent representation of what the grape has become in its native soil. It's not as fruity as the first one -- considerably earthier, and with a little bit of that Italian chalk. It's still pretty fruity, but has a nice spicy undertone that I liked. It would be a great pairing with almost any hearty Italian food. We had it with chicken tortellini soup and it was fabulous. For the price, you can't beat it. $6-10.

Morgante 2005 Nero d'Avola -- When I was a teenage sci-fi/fantasy geek -- back in the days before I discovered that kissing girls was much more fun than Dungeons & Dragons, I read a series of books by Steven Brust. In this series of books, there was a type of weapon called a "Morganti" that destroyed a person's soul. This similarly-named wine didn't quite have that effect, but it did leave my spirit dampened. Available for $11-18, this was the most expensive of the wines that I bought, and was by far the most disappointing. The nose was nice enough -- lots of fruit. The taste of the wine was unimpressive, however. No pronounced character of much of anything, and a finish that could only be described as flabby. Perhaps I just got a bad bottle, but I'd snag two bottles of the Arancio in its place in a heartbeat.

"A Census Taker once tried to test me..."

Early in the running of 1991’s Academy Award-winning Silence of the Lambs, serial killer Hannibal Lecter gives us one of history’s most famous food and wine pairing. Come on now, everyone sing along. You all know the words:

“…I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.”

If you remember – Lecter was a brilliant man (for a fictional character). Patron of the arts. Gourmand. Wine aficionado. So, why a Chianti? You know -- straw-wrapped bottles you see hanging near the ceiling in Italian restaurants that usually end up as a candle holder of some sort? Chiantis are known to be cheap, uncomplicated table wine. Why would a man with Lecter’s palate select one for his meal?

Thankfully for us, neither Thomas Harris nor Jonathan Demme decided to have Lecter explain his selection – instead focusing on…well…advancing the plot. Since we’re not trying to solve a murder, we have the luxury of re-examining this rather misunderstood wine. (Side note: a college friend of mine was almost denied entry to this film after responding to the ticket seller’s, “Which movie?” with “Silence of the Lambs – and it’s not a movie…it’s an instructional video.”)

First off, Chianti is not a grape. It’s a province in Tuscany in Central Italy. Chianti is primarily made from the sangiovese grape. (The roots of the word “sangiovese” mean “blood of Jupiter”) The Chianti region has been producing this wine for over 700 years. Chianti has been known for years as a classic "food" wine -- while just OK on its own, this varietal really comes to life if you pair it with some tasty vittles.

Over the last 30 years or so, the Italian wine industry has set more exacting standards for their wines – leading to higher qualities among relatively inexpensive selections. You might also hear some discussion of “Super Tuscan” wines These are high quality wines generally blended from sangiovese and grapes like cabernet sauvignon – producing big, powerful, tasty (and expensive) wines.

Chianti is an easy wine to understand from a quick glance at the label. There are only two things that you need to look for. First off – the bottle's origin. A wine simply labeled “Chianti” is the more generic wine – the grapes can be a blend of grapes from anywhere in the Chianti province. A “Chianti Classico” indicates a specific sub-region of the Chianti region. Classico is the most well-known and generally produces the highest quality in Chianti. (There are also six other lesser-known regions) Chianti Classico is also sometimes designated by a black rooster on the neck of the bottle. Second, there's aging. If “Riserva” appears on the label – that particular bottle has met a specific governmental aging requirement. For Chiantis, the wine must be barrel-aged for a minimum of three years to be considered a "Riserva."

In terms of price (generally), regular Chianti will be least expensive – then Chianti Classico or Chianti Riserva – then Chianti Classico Riserva.

Oh, and those wicker-wrapped bottles – the straw is a throwback to earlier days of glassblowing. Wine bottles were once globe-shaped. To prevent breakage during shipment from village to village, the winemakers would weave straw cushions, known as fiascoes, around the bottles. The tradition stuck around for awhile. In present times, Fiasco-wrapped bottles are generally a curiosity and are usually reserved for cheaper Chianti. Since we’re on the subject, we’ll start with one:

Banfi Bell'Agio 2004 Chianti -- The wickered bottles in your neighborhood Italian restaurant may well be this particular wine.. The nose of this wine is surprisingly fruity and gentle -- like ripe plums, but on your tongue -- whole new ballgame. The wine starts out sharply tart. It's a very light-bodied wine, almost watery. Like many sangiovese-based wines, this wine has a fair amount of acidity, but the acidity turns almost lemony as you drink it. The finish is very dry and chalky. The easily recognizable fiasco gives this wine a visual aesthetic and many people have this wine as their first Chianti. For this reason, it's easy to see why many people are turned off at first drink by this varietal. Interestingly, Banfi doesn't even put their name on the wine label, nor do they advertise it on their website. You can get a bottle of Banfi for between $8-11. Unless you want a centerpiece, I think you can find other inexpensive Chianti that will work for you.

Piazzano "Rio Camerata" 2003 Chianti -- Again, another regular Chianti -- this one's slightly more expensive…but pay the extra twelve bits or so. The Piazzano has a light cherry nose with what smells a little like spearmint or menthol. The flavor, again, is a bit tart, but is balanced with an easy earthiness and some more of that cherry flavor. The finish turns dry pretty quickly, but it's not nearly as sharp as the Banfi. There's also a slightly fruity finish to it, which makes the whole experience pleasant. Pasta primavera pairs nicely with this, as would a baked chicken, basic marinara, or minestrone soup. This one is more in the $10-14 range.

Gabbiano Chianti 2003 Classico -- The difference between "standard" Chianti and Chianti Classico becomes evident in the first seconds after you get a whiff of this wine -- the scent is considerably more complex. The cherries on the nose are much more pronounced, along with some smoky wood. The tartness of this Chianti is balanced nicely with a big dose of fruit -- berries and cherries. Unlike the previous two, the typical chalky finish of Chianti is balanced with a little sweetness -- which makes this a much stronger wine for bigger sauces. Roast pork or beef, risotto in mushroom sauce, or an aged cheese and crusty bread would be perfect here. You're looking at $9-13 for this.

Tiziano 2001 Chianti Riserva -- Tiziano makes a decent standard Chianti. However, on further aging, the difference in the wine is remarkable. Just the appearance is strikingly different -- the wine is much darker and heavier-looking than standard Chianti. The big fruit nose on this wine has a pronounced earthy character. You'd probably want to uncork this one and let it breathe for at least a few minutes before drinking. The flavor is big and tart, but the aging largely removes the strong chalky flavor on the end -- leaving you with a lingering fruit and spice. If you ordered a steak, pasta Bolognese, or any kind of meat or pesto dish -- you've got a winner here at $8-10, a steal for a Riserva.

So, returning to our old friend Dr. Lecter – liver is very pungent, and standard Chianti probably wouldn’t stand up to it. If you’re going to be dining on census taker any time soon, I would probably recommend a merlot. However, if you’re feeling traditional and you must have Chianti – find a big Chianti Classico Riserva…and a good attorney.

Until next time…Salute!